


soft and slow.

by katarama



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, BDSM, Collars, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Praise Kink, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it was just Malia and Stiles, Valentine’s Day was easy.  Neither of them had very high expectations; the first year, Stiles completely forgot about it, and it didn’t even enter Malia’s radar as something to watch out for until that morning when they arrived at school to see the hallways decked out in pink.  The second year, both of them remembered.  They had a calendar hanging up in the kitchen of their college apartment together, and Stiles carefully drew in a heart on February 14th.  They were both a little bit broke, so they decided ahead of time that they were going to go low-budget.</p><p>This year, though, neither of them feels so good about doing the bare minimum, because this year, they have a Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	soft and slow.

When it was just Malia and Stiles, Valentine’s Day was easy.  Neither of them had very high expectations; the first year, Stiles completely forgot about it, and it didn’t even enter Malia’s radar as something to watch out for until that morning when they arrived at school to see the hallways decked out in pink.  Malia wanted to celebrate, so during lunch, they snuck out to the store in the jeep and bought a pack of foldover Harry Potter valentines, the kind that seal with the red sticker heart, and Malia painstakingly wrote them out for all of their friends.  Malia showed up at Stiles’ place later with flowers she’d found in the woods, and the two of them fell asleep watching a movie.

The second year, both of them remembered.  They had a calendar hanging up in the kitchen of their college apartment together, and Stiles carefully drew in a heart on February 14th.  They were both a little bit broke, so they decided ahead of time that they were going to go low-budget.  What they ended up doing instead was going together to CVS.  Malia bought a new bowl and Stiles got a few packages of day-after, reduced cost Valentine’s Day candy, and the two of them set it out on the living room table, as a present for themselves.  That night, they both blew off their work and had enough sex that even Malia’s thighs were sore the next morning.

This year, though, neither of them feels so good about doing the bare minimum, because this year, they have a Scott.

The frustrating thing about Scott is that he tries.  Really hard, all the time.  He lives in their apartment with them, and he pays more than his fair share of rent most months, just because.  He always pays attention to when one of them is feeling down or stressed or anxious, and he’s there to pick them back up.  He brings so much to their relationship and to daily life that both Malia and Stiles would feel bad about not doing anything out of the ordinary for him.  

They are all still broke, though, and Stiles and Malia aren’t going to let Scott spend his hard-earned money on Valentine’s day.  So they sit him down, and all three of them agree that maybe this year they shouldn’t buy each other gifts.

“You and me are doing something for Scott together, right?” Stiles asks her one day when Scott’s in class.  “But not really for each other.”

“That’s what I was planning on,” Malia says, and, once again, Stiles is incredibly grateful for their relationship.  “What should we do for Scott, though?”

“I have no idea,” Stiles says, and he clears some space on his thinking board for them to work.

* * *

 

It’s probably pretty typical that Malia and Stiles’ brains go in the same direction, and that that direction involves sex.  But Stiles honestly thinks they’ve come up with a really, really good idea.  He really thinks Scott’s going to like it.  Or, at the very least, appreciate the thought that went behind it.

They all agreed to set the day aside for the three of them, so all of them already have their work done for the weekend when they go to bed the night before.  It’s hard for Stiles to sleep when he’s excited and jittery, but Malia wraps an arm around him and snuggles up behind him, and he manages to doze off.

Stiles turns off Scott’s alarm on his phone when it goes off, kissing Scott’s forehead and telling him to go back to sleep.  Scott blearily obeys, and Stiles sneaks out of bed to get stuff ready while Malia snuggles back into Scott in Stiles’ place.  Stiles makes pancakes for all of them, dying the batter pink and adding in chocolate chips and to shape the batter so it’s more or less a lump shaped like a heart.  He’s not so great at the art part of pancakes, but he has his mom’s recipe down to a science.  Scott usually works weekends and doesn’t get to reap the benefits, hasn’t since they were kids.  So Stiles goes all out and stacks as many pancakes as he can make on top of each other, adding powdered sugar between each layer and grabbing two extra plates and the can of whipped cream from the fridge on his way up.  He realizes halfway up that he’ll have to make a trip back downstairs for the OJ and silverware and maple syrup, but he doesn’t think that will be an issue.

When he comes upstairs, Malia’s mouth is wrapped around Scott’s dick, and Scott’s face is already warm and pink, his eyelids still heavy but valiantly open while Malia sucks sloppily at the head of Scott’s cock.  Stiles sets the food down on the nightstand while he runs to get the rest, and by the time he comes back upstairs, Scott’s breathing heavily and covered in sweat, and Malia’s proudly running her finger through the come covering his chest.

“Morning,” Stiles says, holding up the carton of orange juice.  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You made pancakes,” Scott says, blinking his eyes open when Stiles sets them down carefully on the bed, managing to avoid any moving limbs.  

“And when this inevitably ends badly, I’m going to change the sheets and throw these in the laundry, too,” Stiles promises.  “And then you can do your gift and then we’re gonna spend the rest of the day spoiling you rotten and giving you a break from all the work you do the rest of the year.”

Scott looks awed, like he was just told he was given a gift.  “Guys, I… I don’t know what to say.  I didn’t do that much for you.  I thought we agreed we weren’t doing all that much.”

“This isn’t all that much,” Malia tells him.  “It’s making up for some things we should make more time for the rest of the year.  Some things we all like, but especially you.”

“I just crocheted you guys hats and mittens,” Scott says.  “They’re matching colors.  You probably won’t even wear them.”

“I will wear it with pride,” Stiles announces and kisses Scott’s face.  “If Jayne from Firefly can pull off his hat, I’m sure I can easily wear yours.”

It’s blue and green, and Stiles is pretty sure he looks dashing in it.

They end up moving the food back downstairs before any spills occur, because Scott is practical and decides that breakfast in underwear at the table sounds much less messy, and they want to be able to use the bed later and not have to wash two sets of sheets.  They eat everything and do the dishes together, though Malia tries to insist that Scott let the two of them handle it.  Stiles makes a point of saying that it’s going to be the last bit of responsibility for the day that Scott gets to take on on his own, and Scott’s eyes go wide, because he knows what that means.

“I get the collar today?” he asks, tentatively hopeful.

“It’s been too long since we had a day when you got to be down,” Stiles says.  “We thought maybe we could have a nice day to relax.  And maybe a bath to get you all cleaned up so Malia can peg you.”

“And Stiles can sit on your dick,” Malia says.  “Scott in the middle.”

“So see?” Stiles says, setting his new hat and mittens back down on the table.  “We’re getting spoiled, too.  We get our good boy all collared up for us, and we get a brain break, too.”

Scott glows at being called their good boy, and Stiles already has a good feeling about the day. “You and Malia can go run the bath water.  I’ll be right up.”

* * *

 

Squeezing three people into even their rather large bathtub is impossible, so Scott and Stiles squeeze in together when Malia has the water run.  They drop in half of a bath bomb, even though they know it’ll dye the bathtub pink and both of them glittery.  Playing with people’s hair is one of Malia’s favorite things to do when she’s feeling sleepy and lazy, so she pulls out the nice shampoo, the lavender and mint kind Stiles panic bought for her at a hair salon when he and Kira took her to get her hair cut short and the person at the front desk kept teasing Stiles for looking at Malia the whole time.  She spends ages working the lather into Scott’s hair, letting him dip his head back and close his eyes as she lets her stubby, bitten nails gently scrape his scalp.

They get a little of the shampoo in Scott’s eyes when they try to rinse it out, but he doesn’t complain too much.  He’s already leaning into the headspace Malia and Stiles were aiming for, letting Malia ease him back down to put in conditioner, trusting her hands with his weight like it’s something he doesn’t even have to think about.

When they’re all done and Scott’s fingers have pruned, they run a shower, just to get as much of the glitter off as they can. Stiles cleans them both off, rubbing Scott down with a washcloth, letting his hands linger on Scott’s thighs and dipping down around Scott’s hole, just a little pressure and motion against Scott’s rim.

“You’re gonna tease me so much today, aren’t you?” Scott asks sleepily, and Stiles huffs a laugh.  

“Me, a tease?” Stiles says, grinning widely.  “Never.”

“Right,” Scott says.  “Sure.  Never.”

They turn the water off and dry off with their biggest, fluffiest towels.  Stiles lets Malia grab the collar from the counter, the plain black one that fits Scott snugly.  It’s Scott’s favorite, because the edges are soft against his skin, and there’s no huge, chilly metal buckle.

“You ready for this, dude?” Stiles asks, and Scott smiles at him, subdued but certain.

“Yeah,” Scott says.  “Go ahead and put it on.  I’m ready to be yours.”

“You’re always ours,” Malia says as she fastens the collar carefully around his neck.  “As long as you want to be, you’re our pretty boy.”

Malia never had any time for thinking about gendered compliments like handsome versus pretty, and it works out well for all of them.  Scott’s smile lights up his face as he looks up at her, his cheeks pink, his fingers reaching up to brush against his collar.  “I’m your pretty boy?”

Stiles runs his hand as gently as he can manage down Scott’s back, watching with satisfaction as goosebumps form on Scott’s skin.  Scott bites his bottom lip with his upper teeth, and Stiles knows he’s doing something right.

“You are,” Stiles says, so Scott can bask in that emotion for a moment, the feeling of being owned.  “Do you want us to show you?”

“Please,” Scott says earnestly, more eager than polite, and Stiles waits for Scott’s bottom lip to fall free so he can press a long, hard kiss onto Scott’s lips.

“I think we can do that, then, don’t you, Malia?”

Malia’s already eyeing Scott’s thighs, her favorite place to leave marks.  “We can.”

There’s brief moments that Stiles knows he’ll remember in crystal clarity for the rest of the year, probably the rest of his life.  The feeling of riding Scott while he’s bracketed in by Malia on the other side, Scott’s eyes screwed tight, Stiles having to speak loudly over Scott’s moans when he tells him how good he is, how well he’s taking Malia, how well his pretty dick fills Stiles up.  The way Scott melts into Malia’s steady arms when he finally comes, his face so blissed out it looks like he’s left the earth for a little while.  Stiles pressing kisses against his cheeks, sliding off Scott’s dick and letting the come leak down his thighs while he keeps himself pressed close to Scott.

He doesn’t remember the exact words he and Malia say, lost to time and faded memory.  Neither him nor Malia was ever the best at saying how they feel, but it’s easy like this, when Scott is there and open, when Malia can talk about how he helped her find her place, when Stiles can talk about how he never had to find it because it was always right there next to Scott.  Stiles knows their words are soft, and they leave them like brands on Scott’s body, something that will linger even when the collar is off and they’re all back down with their feet on the ground, buried in work.

Stiles hates when they finally have to take the collar off, but Scott looks more relaxed than Stiles has seen him in months.  He makes a silent promise to himself to do this more often, and Malia’s eyes say the same thing.

“I love you, Valentine,” Stiles says as cheesily as is humanly possible, and Scott laughs.  He knows Stiles is serious, though, and that’s the important part.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com).


End file.
